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— nn et ee er ar et center nimats a ET oo tie Sent incl. IS THE OFFICIAL PAPER S HOCKING COUNTY ! ! SUBSCRIPTION A YEAR? VOL. 41. L. GREEN, Editor and Pr secs sl a Our Business Crews Better Each Day! THE PUBLIC ARE CONVINCED THAT 320 5 OUR, GOODS. 38S can AYY ag! ARR ¥F Sant! ames, aw wad AND CAN BE BOUGHT LOWER THAN AT ANY OTHER HOUSE We will not be undersold, Qur goods are all choles grades and full weights are guarantees. We carry a full and complete stock of EVERYTHING KNOWN TO THE GROCERY TRADE. China, Glass and Queensware, we have more than twice as many goods as all other dealers in the city, comprising all the novelties of ‘In Queensware, China, Glassware, Novelties in Majorca, Croquette, Venitian and Bohemian Goods at prices that can’t be beat in the Ue “’ assortment of Decorated Chinas in Tea and Dinner Sets. Hand painted French China Fruit Plates of all descriptions, plier on Glass Ice Cream Sets, Comports, etc , etc. Qur Stock of Decorated Chamber Sets is Complete. A Magnificent display of Lamps of every Imaginable Style and design Large Swinging Library Lamps, Wall Lamps and all kinds of [and Lamps, Globes and Shades for all kinds of Lamps We have also added to our }? : hy, $1 QQ ; } stock a.complete it ! Bar Fixtures of all descriptions, Ren place. Emnmsen Schneemilets. 8 } ’ + Win. . Me. PEene : VA Tritsch Centennie! Block, 96 and 98, Main Street, Logan, Ohio. t The Romance of Green ‘Township.® BY W. A. TAYLOR. CHAPTER I, “Tirst! We are only a few steps from the place.” “But aren’t you mistaken ?— ‘Pears to me we ain’t to the edge ; e 9 of the clearin’ yet. *Shesh, Speak to’em your , , fears ; ‘ breath. Don’t wake the dogs, for God’s sake, or ye'll spile the game.” “What’er you goin’ to do when we get there ?” “Prospect a little—that’s all e xcept to get some fresh meat for breakfast.”’ “Well that won’t come in bad, seein’ as we haven’t had much of anything to eat sence we struck this infernal wilderness.” “Hush! S-h-s-h! We’re right there. Don’t you hear the’horses a stamp’’’? ‘Pears as if they hadn't laid down to sleep yet.” This conversation was carried on by two men as they cautious ly groped their way in the dark ness along a road that led from a heavy forest into a considerable space of cleared land. An hour before, a large Cones toga wagon, covered with dingy and weather-beaten canvass, had stopped a quarter of a mile furth rn the forest, and these two men had made their way cauti ously to the point where we found them. They were evidently strangers to the locality, but endowed with that instinct which in the midst of the wilderness and in the pitchy darkness of midnight, told them of their proximity to a hu man habitation, even before they saw it, or heard the ordinary sounds of life that would impress themselves upon the dwellers of our modern cities. ‘The great and almost unbroken forest which covered the valley and the neighboring hills, was in the full foliage of June, adding to the darkness which enveloped the scarcely traveled road. At length they emerged from the deeper shadows into the open land, but it was still too dark for them to distinguish any object before them. Dropping upon their hands and knees, and putting their heads to the ground, they began to secure an advantage over the almost im penetrable darkness. Objects began to come out plainly as they came between eye of the explorer and the light of the sky above the forest line of the horizon. In a few minutes they had made out almost every object within the circle of the cleared land, which was absolute ly invisible to them when they were standing erect. “He's pretty well to do,” whis pered the first of the two men who had spoken. “There’s two horses and four or five cows and calves running out, and I can hear two or three more horses in the stable. There’s a rail pen with pigs in it over there to the left of the house and he has a corn crib and wagon shed, as well as a double log barn, and I'll be bound I can go blindfolded right into the floor of the barn and put my hand on a fat chicken or pick a ten pound pig out on that pen as fat as a butter ball. Oh! this is a good place to come to in a pinch.— We'll have to cultivate the old fellow’s ’quaintance.” What the chickens is that roar in’ 'way up’ there behind us?” asked the other, and they turned their faces to the west as though they fancied they could see some thing through the inky darkness. They listened intently for a moment, “Dern me of it don’t mind me of the rollers at the Hook, or the surf beatin’ over against the pint at Neversink Highlands.” “Does sound a little that way,” assented the other. “But it isn’t no ocean. You can bet yer last chaw of tebacker on that. Thun der! There isn’t room enough for the Kill Van Kull among these infernal hills. Oh! I know what it is. It’s a milldam. It’s got full during the night and is running over.” It was the roar of the Falls of the Hock-Hocking, but at that moment even the existence of the river was unknown to both the speakers. “As nigh as I can figure it out,” said speaker number one, “the dogs are sleeping on the front porch. There’s likely to be two of them, and it’s goin’ to be hard work mebbe to quiet ’em, but I try it. Now you lay flat down here and keep your eye skinned, and see that nobody comes out and pinks me while I go up to wards the house.” “Well, blast my cats! That’s a pretty go! I forgot to bring the charm along with me,” said number one, in tones of savage vexation. Mebbe you’ve got it in yer pockets somewheres.” Number one fumbled about his pockets for a few minutes, and finally pulling the leg of his pants out of his immense boot leg, felt in a little pocket near the bottom of them. “Here it is all right,” he whis pered, “just where it ought to be. I might have known it was there.” He carefully unrolled an oil skin from a dark object that look ed like a piece of shoemaker’s wax, the size of a hen’s egg. This he carefully rubbed over his hands and face and clothes down to the very toes of his boots. It gave off a singular, indescribable odor. For years after, the people of Hocking and adjoining counties had reason to execrate that little package, although they knew lit tle of it, save the effects upon their hitherto faithful night guar dians. It caused many a farmer to kill his dogs or trade them off for the most wolfish curs he could hear if having apparently annointed himself, the stranger started to walk in the direction of the farm house, whistling in a low key, which gradually grew louder and louder. Two powerful mastiffs sprang to their feet upon the porch and with savage growls went bounding down the foot path to meet the intruder. Within a row of him they sud denly lowered their bristles, ceas ed growling and approached the man in a fawning attitude. “Good fellows! Come here, puppies!” and he snapped his fingers to them as they wound themselves round and round his feet, rubbed against bis toss o¢ stead up on their hii *est and licked his hands’ #5 he rondied them. He gave a shary Waistie and his companion aprong to hie tact and advanced rapidly to where he was standing. “Let’s look round a little,” said number one, and number two produced a dark lantern from his pocket. Turning the shield or case from the bull’s-eye, it threw a bright ray of light upon every object that came within its focus, with out creating a glare that would betray the presence of the night prowlers. In ten minutes they had made up a pretty accurate schedule of the farmer's property outside of his dwelling behine, and as they did not propose to enter it on this occasion, its contents did not interest them greatly. “Well take four of them gal ler-legged chickens, and that black and white pig,” said prow ler number one, “it’s a jolly good world when other people raise pigs and chickens for you.” “And horses,’ chuckled his comrades. “Yes, and horses.” During all their explorations, the farmer’s two dogs had follow ed them closely, and apparently on the best of terms with them. In selecting the choicest chick ens, they set up quite a clatter and squalling, but a stop was put to the noise by wringing their necks. In removing the pig from the pen, it set up a lusty squeal ing and continued it, amidst the savage snorting of the older hogs, until one of the prowlers wrap ped the long skirt of his coat about its nose, nearly suffocating it. “Old fellow, well come back and see you again,” said number one as they struck into the forest along the road. In a short time they reached the wagon spoken of, put their plunder into it and waked up the rest of the party. An’ hour later day began to break, and harnessing their horses they were soon’ driving through the forest in the direction of a group of almost inaccessible hills. CHAPTER I, “Christian,” said Mrs Westen haver, as she was fanning the embers in the kitchen ‘fire-place with the wing of a wild Turkey, until they glowed and sparkled and finally broke into a blaze, the next morning after the events narrated. “Christian there must have been someone at our chick en house last night.” “Why, mother, what makes you think so?? asked Christian Wes tenhaver. “Because I heard them sqawk ing and carrying on in the night.” “You must have been dream ing mother. Why Rose and Watch would have settled with a chicken thief.” “I felt sure enough of that, Christian, and as they didn’t bark, I didn’t wake you. And then I heard the pigs squealing as though one of them was being carried off. I wonder if a bear could have come in from the hills and molested them?” “Come here Rose and Watch,” said Mr. Westenhaver to his dogs who stood in the open door wag ging their tails, ‘come here and tell mother if a bear came and caught a pig last might. No, mother, they say no. You were dreaming—you must have had the nightmare.~ VU dig you some snake root ana genseng to day and you must make some tea of them,” said Christian Westen by4__ to his wife, with a merry LWidi 5 in his eye. We a Cpe an said Mrs Ee — a ee eR ee a nine eee RR a ee ER Ae A CR AN A moe . he —— THE ~HocKING ~ SENTINEL.» ne ot ADYE are RAT TES.” $16 aa A a AA gene aoe cen tipineyie aS PIE atten ddition: @ ras per yer ti vot LOGAN, OHIO, THURSDAY, AUGUST 3 1882. NO. 16 he oo a iad a es _— — Ee ER ee eee Space Westenhaver — resolutely. “5 wasn’t dreaming at all. ‘The chickens were screaming and one of the pigs squealed while the rest of them were greatly dis turbed. There must have been something wrong.” “Well, we won't quarrel over it mother, it was an owl or fox perhaps. Now you get breakfast While I harness the horses. You know we must go down to Mr. Wright’s this morning and take the chickens and pigs we prom ised. Mr. Wright shall find that his neighbors are not slow in helping him to stock his new farm so that he can begin fe in a new country.” Mrs. Westenhaver busied her self about getting’ breakfast, ‘but before she had the corn dogers fairly in the oven, or the long sli ces of midling turned on the vriddle, Mr. Westenhaver was back to the cast and on either casing of the kitchen door, while his face wore a puzzled and troubled look “What is it, Christian?” “I guess you weren’t dreaming for all last night.” Sy hy, has anything happened to the things.” “Four of the chickens, and one of the pigs (and the choisest ones at that) which I was going to take to Mr. Wright, are gone.” “The vermin have e cnelled them off Ml the bound. We must set some traps for them right away.” “They were human vermin mother—and that’s the worst of 73 1w % b . var a oe iT. i Gian KNOW there Was a thief rte in all this valley or anywhere In the Hocking hills. “But how can you be certain if was a thief Christian?” “There is no trouble to make that out. We can see their tracks all about wherever there is loose earth. They have been around and around the house.” ‘But where were the dogs, Christian? Where were the dogs that they did not ha The trouble on Christian's face deepened, and leaned over and half whispered in his wife's ear: “Don’t you remember what your father told us of the men in the Black Forest who carried the dog charm?” A frightened look came over Mrs. Westenhaver’s face. She glasped the back of a rude split bottom chair to support herself and ejaculated: “Let us pray Heaven that that evil shall never come to this neighborhood.” The matter was beginning to assume such a serious shape that Mr. Westenhaver passed into the children’s room and waked them from their healthful and happy slumber, calling back to the kitchen meantime: “Never mind your father’s sto ry. Mother, let us have break fast. All look this matter up yet. Nearly three quarters of a cen tury has gone by since that mo mentous morning at the old-fash ioned farm house of Christian Westenhaver in the [dian Village of Old Town now a portion of the crowing, busy and prosperous city of Logan. Seventy-one years! But it began an epoch in the af fairs of this immediate neighbor hood that have their influence upon the county more or less to this day, which has grown to be a part and parcel of its earlier history. Mr. Westenhaver was the pio neer of this part of the Valley, coming in 1795, and all the new comers were welcomed by him, and from his well stocked farm were supplied with whatever was necessary to begin life in this then new world. At the particu lar time of which we write, he was going to supply his lately ac quired neighbor, Tommy Wright, the grandfather of Judge Silas L. Wright, with some choice pigs and chickens as a beginning for the barn-yard—barring that Mr. Wright as yet had no barn. But Mr. Westenhaver was de termined that Mr. Wright should have his pigs and chickens, in spite of the mysterious thieves who had raided his premises, so he selected others and carried them to him in his wagon. Without communicating to his new neighbor the unwelcome in telligence of the thieves’ visit, and excusing himself for not re maining to chat with him, he hastened home, unharnessed his horses and determined to follow up the traces of the things, if that were possible. “If I am not back to dinner mother,’ he said to his wife, “don’t wait for me. I'm going to see who carried off my property.” “Trave a care, Christian, they may be desperate men and will harm you.” ‘Never fear for that mother.— Chicken thieves are white livered and will run from a shadow.” But Mr. Westenhaver revised his opinion about these particular chicken thieves before night. It was but little trouble for him to trace the raiders to the point where the wagon had intersected the road leading out from his house, and from that point the trail was plain enough as the fresh wagon tracks shown plainly in the road very seldom traversed by a wheeled vehicle. ‘Two miles out in the direction of the Green township hills, on a cleared elevation he saw the camp of the raiders, and saw them busily engaged cooking a break fast from his favorite pig and choicest chickens. Two swarthy men, an old woman that looked like a witch, a younger woman and two or three children were Saint at VISTI ODIe. The face of a handsome girl peered, out of the wagon as he came up, but a gruff voice ex claimed: “Hide yourself,” and the handsome face so strangely out of place disappeared. Walking directly up to the men Mr. Westenhaver asked; “What are you doing?” “Gettin’ breakfast.” “But where did you git the fowls andgglie meat.” ‘That's none of your business, but still I don’t mind a tellin’ you. We bought them from a farmer who was goin’ along the road to some market town.” There was an air of audacity and menace about the speaker that made Mr. Westenhaver se cret that he had not come better prepared. “I don’t believe you. T I think you stole them from me last night.” “Stold them?” querried the old woman in ‘a crocked voice. Why we is christian folks.” “Don’t say we're thieves,” hissed one of the men. “Now take the back track along that road and travel lively,” he con tinued. “Don’t stop to player, or you'll get a dose of this.” and he drew an immense brass pistol and pointed it at Mr. Westenha ver. At the same moment the girl leaned out of the wagon and motioned him to retreat. Christian Westenhaver was no coward and neither was he a fool, so he quickly decided that he was no match for the party and turned to go, saying: “IT will find out more about you hereafter.” “aw! Haw!” came from con cealed parties in the wagon, while those outside joined in the laughter. “Mebbe you will learn more about us and mebbe you won't!” replied the spokesman. Christian Westenhaver had seen the Metheney gang. Ile and his neighbors were des tined to learn much about them in the future. TO BE CONTINUED. )Copyright secured according to law.
Newspaper Details
Logan Hocking Sentinel
Logan, Ohio, US
Thu, Aug 03, 1882
Page 1
Full Page
Clipped by
Kurt W.
20 Jun 2026
Other Publications Near Logan, Ohio
The Ohio Democrat
Logan Democrat Sentinel
Logan Hocking Sentinel
Logan Hocking County Sentinel
Logan Daily News
